God Bless Nutmeg
by fluid-time
Summary: Middle school is a tough time for Dean Winchester. Being expected to take care of your little brother while your dad is off fighting who knows what is stressful enough without adding in the social complications of being thirteen. He deals with it, mostly, but sometimes accidents happen, and when accidents happen in this line of work it can be pretty messy to clean up.
1. Arrival

**God Bless Nutmeg  
**Chapter 1**  
**Arrival**  
**~liquid-time

* * *

"I'm thirteen Dad," Dean whined as the Winchesters unloaded their bags of luggage in the new motel room, "when does it get weird that I'm still sharing a bed with my little brother?"

"I'm not little!" Sam piped up, "I'm eight!"

"See?" Dean pleaded, setting his and Sam's bags on the ground beside their bed, "and he kicks me in his sleep! Plus we're not small anymore. I swear I've almost fallen out of bed more times than I can count because he hogs so much of it."

"Enough Dean," his father sighed into his hands, interrupting whatever the boy was going to say next. "Maybe next time, I just.. I can't deal with this now. It's been a long day and we've arrived later than I wanted to. I'm worried about completing this hunt before too many more lives are lost."

Night had finally fallen and all of their belongings had been emptied from the Impala and stashed somewhere in the room. Dean closed the door behind him and made sure the locks on it were functional, while John began to unpack his assortment of weapons, lining up the various guns, knives and salts on the worn table in the corner of their temporary abode. He double-checked bullets, stones, holy water, making sure his stock of supernatural hunting gear was all in order. Sam was in the bathroom already, changing into pajamas and brushing his teeth, and John assumed that Dean would unpack his clothing before following Sam in their typical bedtime routine. However Dean stood in front of the table, arms crossed over his chest.

"I mean it Dad, you said you would think of it last time and you never did. I know what you're doing is important but-"

John rounded on his son, "do you know that my job is important? Do you really understand what is at stake here? Because if you actually understood that real, human lives were riding on me completing this _job_, than I think you wouldn't be so ready to pester me about your sleeping conditions," John paused for a moment to let what he has just said sink in. He had enough of Dean's back-talk today. "So, do you want me to save people or do you want me to worry about getting us a different motel room just so you could have a bed to yourself?"

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat that appeared every time his father yelled at him. He was surprised this time. Usually he could see John's anger before he was in trouble, able to read and predict what was going to push his father over the edge, but his father had gone from a loving dad to John Winchester, hunter, in way less time than Dean expected, and this caught him a bit off guard. He stood up a little straighter for it and nodded, almost whispering, "I want you to save lives sir."

John smiled and mussed Deans hair up before patting him on the back. "Good. Now, get ready for bed. We have an early day tomorrow because I have to give you two the tour of the town before taking off."

John went back to his work, silently dismissing Dean who turned around with the intention of sulking off to the bathroom, but was stopped by the arrival of his little brother. Sam peaked over the top of the tall table, past a silver machete that was near the edge. He was barely tall enough to see his father over the array of tools, but smiled up at him nonetheless. He opened his mouth to talk, but a yawn came out instead, obviously tired from the long day's drive.

"What schools are we going to here?" Sam managed to get out before another yawn took over, "I don't remember."

"You're going to Parkville Elementary, and Dean's headed to West Middle."

Dean snorted. "That's a dumb name-"

"Dean, I'm warning you."

"Sorry sir," he mumbled out. While irritated, Dean didn't want to actually start a fight with their father and thought it best to simply back down.

"I'll take you both past them tomorrow so you'll know where to go come Monday."

"Thanks Dad," Sam grinned up at John, "you're the best."

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering, "yeah, _the best_," under his breath as he turned to make his way to the bathroom, but he was pretty sure no one heard him. Sam had already jumped into _their_ bed, right in the middle of the mattress, taking up more space than Dean thought was possible. He sighed again and thought about complaining, but decided instead to let it go. Getting dad angry was not something he enjoyed in general. He loved and idolized the man, but he could get real scary. And that was probably one of the reasons Dean looked up to him so much. John seemed as if he had his whole life under control.

So Dean just continued into the bathroom, grabbed his toothbrush which Sam had been kind enough to unpack for him, and squirted a generous amount of bubblegum flavored toothpaste onto the bristles before shoving into his mouth and brushing vigorously. Dental hygiene was, for some reason, very important to Dean. He spit, watching the mix of saliva and paste slide down the white porcelain sink, and tried to think, tried to get a grip on his emotions.

Shoving his toothbrush back into his mouth, Dean realized that he'd been feeling more angry recently. Angry that he was still being treated like a kid, despite his age and despite what he knew, angry that he was stuck in school even though he knew that he would never need what he was learning, and angry that he had to sleep in the same freaking bed as Sam, again, who really did kick hard in his sleep.

Dean wanted to be the perfect big brother for Sam, but at the same time he sometimes wanted to leave him behind because he screwed up everything. Dean could never stay after school with friends because he had to walk Sam home, he couldn't go out at night because he had to take care of Sam, don't swear in front of Sam, don't be a bad example. It felt as if his whole life revolved around Sam and sometimes Dean just wanted to be his own person.

He spit again, turned the tap on and rinsed his toothbrush under the steady stream of water, taping the blue plastic handle against the side of the sink to knock any droplets off. He sighed again before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the bathroom, determined to keep a cool head.

_It's not Sam's fault,_ he reminded himself, _it's not Dad's fault, it's life. This is life, this is how our lives are._

After trudging over to the edge of his bed, Dean worked his laces loose and pulled his shoes off, the rest of his clothing to follow as he changed into a worn pair of black sweatpants and crawled under the covers with Sam.

"I'm excited to go back to school," Sam stated, turning towards Dean with a grin on his face.

"Scooch over," Dean responded, elbowing his brother's ribs to give himself more room. "Why would you say a thing like that? Wanting to go back to school."

"Because, at the last school we started doing multiplication with double-digit numbers, but the teacher said I was catching on really well, and so I could move on to hundreds. So now I can do stuff like, multiply twenty-seven by three-hundred."

Dean chuckled. "That might be one of the nerdiest things I've heard you say."

"Whatever Dean," Sam said, shaking his head, "you're just jealous because you don't know what eight times seven is off the top of your head."

"Do to!"

"Do not!" Sam mouthed back. When Dean gave no sign of a response, Sam whacked his brother over the top of his head with a pillow. "What is it then?" he prodded, "if you know what it is."

"I don't have to prove myself to you," Dean said while flipping over, lying down with his back to his brother and pulling up the covers so they completely covered his shoulders and started to pretend to snore.

"Your snore sounds so fake," and Dean could just imagine Sam's eye-roll as he said that, also turning around so that his back faced the center of the bed, mirroring Dean, and buried himself in the surprisingly soft quilt.

"You boys aren't fighting again, are you?" John asked, finally climbing into his own bed and extinguishing the light.

"No sir," the two brothers chimed together.

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**AUTHORS NOTE:** I wanted to say a quick thanks for reading the first chapter, and give fair warning to potential readers that this is not going to be a romantic or relationship-centric story (since I know a lot of people look for that in their fan-fictions). Love yall lots!

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**The End**  
**(of the chapter)**


	2. Morning

**God Bless Nutmeg  
**Chapter 2  
Morning  
~liquid-time

* * *

Dean usually woke up right away in the mornings. He didn't need an alarm clock in order to get up in time for school or hunting or moving. However Dean loved lounging around in bed for an hour or two before convincing himself to leave the soft warmth of linen sheets and used blankets. He liked the feeling of snuggling into a quilt-cocoon while the sun peaked in through the aluminium slates of the venetian blinds that were hung haphazardly over the window.

Beside him, Sam's steady breathing lulled the atmosphere of the slightly dingy room. It was relaxing and almost hypnotic and Dean found himself wishing that he was able to fall back asleep in order to escape his early-morning consciousness that was thoroughly pissed off about having to get dressed in another hour in order to memorize the layout of another neighborhood that he didn't care about. Dean also wished that Sam hadn't pushed him to the edge of the bed last night, easily taking up three-fourths of the mattress, but here he lay with part of his body balanced precariously on the edge.

He could shove Sam over and claim his rightful half, but Dean decided instead to give himself some extra shower time. Pulling off the covers and swinging his legs to the edge of the bed, he stood up, his toes burying themselves in the rough, green shag-carpet of the motel room floor.

Sam usually stayed asleep for as long as possible in the mornings. He definitely needed an alarm clock in order to get himself up in time for school or moving or breakfast. However, Sam hated being rushed. So as much as he loved not having to get up to leave the warmth of linen sheets and used blankets, he made himself rise early for the day. He hadn't bothered with an alarm last night though, figuring he would wake up once dad started to make a loud enough racket. He was usually a heavy sleeper, something he was thankful for considering the amount of times their motel was next to a highway, or his father had to stay awake at night, making noise. However that was not the case this morning.

Beside him, Dean's movement woke him up. His brother stood with his back to their bed and probably hadn't even noticed that Sam's eyes had opened, drearily blinking away the memories of his dream.

"Why are you getting up?" Sam asked, reaching his hand out to casually brush his brother's arm. Used to waking up with Dean beside him, Sam was confused. His brother had willingly gotten out of bed of his own accord, something that really never happened.

"Just figured I would hit the shower early."

"You okay?" Sam asked, wrinkling his forehead in concern. "You never get up before you have to... and sometimes not even then."

"Maybe I would stay in bed if I had more of it to myself," Dean grunted, his voice low and scratchy from the morning. It was still light though, just giving his brother a hard time.

Sam looked down and realized that he had taken over the mattress while asleep. Most of the covers has been wrapped around his small frame as well, leaving very little for Dean. "Oh," was his response as he scooted over in an attempt to make more room. Even though he knew Dean wasn't mad he still felt bad, not wanting to be any more of a nuisance than he already was.

But his brother shook his head. "Don't worry about it Sammy, I'm already awake," and with that Dean began his trek to the bathroom.

"It's Sam," he corrected with a smile on his face, "and he'll be gone soon," he added nodding at the outline of their father in the next bed over.

Dean stopped in his tracks, turned around and gave Sam a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean tomorrow night he'll leave for... for whatever he does and you'll be able to sleep in his bed." Sam paused, but Dean just stood there staring at him, not making a move to leave and not making a move to speak. "Hello? I heard what you were saying last night I'm not deaf," he sighed, "I was there for the conversation about how you wanted your own bed sometimes."

Sam trailed off, but Dean still stared at him. It made him a bit uncomfortable, and he shifted the heavy quilt so that it was around his shoulders again.

"Are you sure you're okay Dean? You're staring at me like I'm crazy, but I was right beside you helping you unload the car. You want your own bed because your old now or whatever. You can have Dad's bed while he's gone and there: no more me being a mattress hog or kicking you in your sleep."

When Dean showed no signs of response Sam added jokingly, "Dean please say something, you're scaring me."

Dean shook his head suddenly and looked down before making eye contact with Sam. "Yeah, I know, I know. Sorry, just spacing out for a second. Dad gone, I get bed, we're both happy. Now if you could quit yammering, I'd like to take my shower."

Sam sighed in exasperation before nodding at his brother and falling back onto in pillow and back into sleep.

Dean walked into the bathroom and shivered from the sensation of cool tile below his feet. Shutting the door, he walked over to the sink and began to brush his teeth. Doing so before his shower would allow Dean to eat breakfast later without food tasting foul. He did this every morning, having routine that he stuck to. It was efficient and usually allowed him the maximum amount of time to sleep in. Plus, it was comforting to know that he had control over something in his life, even if it was something as small as what he did before leaving the motel room.

When he had turned ten his dad offered to let him help with hunting, but with the research and figuring out what they were up against. Dean was excited at first, but didn't enjoy hitting the books. That was more up Sam's alley, and he was sure little Sammy will be enthralled to read all day about monsters once he's old enough. Dean though, Dean wanted to go out in the field with his dad, help him take down the monsters. He knew how to use a gun, and was fairly proficient in hand to hand combat. John kept saying the he was too young, but he wasn't a child anymore. He was a teenager now and able to make decisions for himself.

Lost in his thoughts, Dean spat, rinsed and headed for the shower, turning the water temperature up so that it would fog the mirrors and steam the air. Sam's blazè attitude towards their dad leaving was what had caught him off-guard, making him momentarily forget about their conversation and stare blankly ahead. At some point when growing up Dean had stopped being surprised every time John left for a couple days or weeks. He stopped being sad about it and began to factor the absent father-figure into how he lived his life. He guessed Sam had reached that point too.

Droplets of water hit Dean's skin and as the warmth relaxes his muscles, he could momentarily forget about his life, forget about the worry of school and family that constantly plagued him. The shower was almost like sleep, and like sleep, would eventually have to end. But Dean didn't get out of bed early for nothing, so instead he closed his eyes, let the water wash over his face and basked in his momentary mental haven, safe from the real world outside.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I cut this chapter short in order to post in a timely manner. Therefore nothing really happened in it. This past week I was moving and figuring out my winter term schedule which had me running around campus like crazy.  
A quick thank you to those who have watched, reviewed and fav-ed, yall are great!

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**The End  
(of the chapter)**


	3. Outside

**God Bless Nutmeg****  
**Chapter 3  
Outside  
~fluid-time

* * *

By the time Sam woke up enough to extract himself from the bed, Dean was already dressed. He could hear water running in the bathroom, and assumed John was occupying it; so when the old clock on the bedside table clicked into place at 7:38 am, Sam decided to skip his morning shower and instead just pull on clothing. No point in making everyone late when he could just wash up in the afternoon.

A large yawn overcame him as he made his way over to his duffel-bag. He pulled out a pair of jeans that used to be Dean's and a generic grey t-shirt that he had picked up at a thrift store a couple months ago. For the most part Sam didn't mind the constant barrage of used items and hand-me-downs that all the Winchester's gravitated towards, but he sometimes yearned for items that were completely new and that were completely his. Even the knives he was given had already been broken in from previous hunts that his father had completed.

When he was finished changing, Dean motioned him over to the table and passed a plate of bread laden with peanut butter and bananas to where he was sitting.

"I managed to steal it when when we stopped at that gas station yesterday. Dad didn't even notice," Dean half-whispered, talking about the fresh banana.

Sam smiled up at his brother, "thanks!"

This was one of Sam's favourite things to eat, and sometimes getting fresh fruit on the road wasn't an option. This simple snack was a treat for him, and he was glad that his brother was willing to indulge him even though Dean didn't like the sticky combination himself.

Dean leaned in towards Sammy, "Don't tell dad. Promise?"

"Promise," Sam said through a mouth-full of food, taking another bite before he was even finished.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in comfortable silence. Sam was grateful that Dean insisted on carrying peanut butter and bread with him wherever they travelled, just for cases like this. It didn't require refrigeration and provided some protein to keep them full. John didn't like to get food in the mornings, and the brothers would never have been allowed to leave and grab breakfast besides what might be in a motel vending machine, meaning that they would have to wait for lunch to eat. As two growing boys, going for more than a handful of hours without food wasn't an ideal option.

For as much as Sam teased Dean about his academics, his brother was really smart, and Sam hoped that he could be that intelligent someday.

The sound of the shower shut off and moments later John emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and about ready to go. Sam watched his father stroll over to the bed to fasten a couple knifes to his belt, and strap a concealed gun to his figure.

"You boys about ready?"

"Yep," piped Sam as Dean scrambled to put the food away in his bag quickly.

"You both got your pocket knives on ya?"

"Yes sir," they responded in unison.

"Good."

"Let me use the bathroom, and then I'll be ready to go," said Sam, already making his way towards the toilet.

"So," Dean started, sitting down on his unmade bed, "are you taking off tomorrow?"

"Yes, although we may not be here for too long. There's been a very high volume of deaths the past week, and that's why I've decided to investigate, but nothing about them seems out of the ordinary besides the frequency. If it looks like they're regular people killing people, then I'll be back in a few days and we'll be on the road again."

"How many people have died?" Dean asked, suspecting a very high number if it warranted their dad driving out for it.

"Never you mind. If I need your help I'll let you know."

"Yes sir," Dean mumbled, knowing the tone in his father's voice indicating that this conversation was finished.

He stood back up as he heard Sam exit the bathroom and exclaim, "ready!" before heading towards the motel room door. The family of three exited and turned right, with John leading the way.

Although the motel wasn't what one would call a luxurious or even a 'nice' place to stay, it wasn't in a bad part of town. It was wedged on the side of a busy street that ran through the downtown area, only a few blocks away from a quaint neighborhood, with houses painted neatly and sidewalks lined with trees. John turned onto Asylum St. and explained that West Middle School, was only a few blocks from where they were staying.

Dean let himself hope for a minute that Sammy's school was near as well, since he was responsible for ensuring that his brother got to and from their room safely. However, as John kept walking he explained that they were going to need to leave extra early in the mornings to get Sam there in time.

"It's about a half-hour walk," he explained, "and I'm sorry boys, but there are no good bus routes."

Dean groaned. He was expecting the luxury of public transportation at least.

"I'll have a note signed for you," John continued with a nod towards Dean, "sayin' that you're allowed out of class early in order for you to get to his school in time to pick him up."

After walking a few more blocks, they stopped outside of an impressive brick building with two white roman columns jutting out - framing bright green painted doors. Above them a carved sign read WEST MIDDLE SCHOOL, letting Dean know that this was going to be his prison for their remaining time in this town. Although Dean hated the idea of being trapped in the classroom again, he did appreciate the sprawling lawn and large oaks that were outside. A tall bell tower rose above the school as well, and he quickly realized that this buildings facade was a lot nicer than some of the other random schools he had been dumped at over the years.

"So this is my school... awesome," Dean concluded, forced disdain dripping from his voice.

"I don't want any attitude from you, boy," John warned, making a one-eighty and motioning for the boys to keep up. After taking a few more strides he glanced down to tell them, "this is how you're going to get to Sammy's school from here."

"Does my school look like Dean's?" Sam asked excitedly, practically skipping to keep up with his father's long strolls.

"I don't know, son, I haven't seen it yet."

"It probably looks way cool, Sam, I'm sure you'll enjoy it there."

They walked in silence for awhile, but eventually Dean and Sam found a couple of sticks and proceed to sword-fight the rest of their way to the elementary school. John kept a weary eye on them to make sure they didn't dash out into traffic at the wrong moment. They didn't, and after about thirty minutes they found themselves outside of another school, only this one didn't look quite so grand.

"_This_ is where I'm going?" Sam asked, not even attempting to hide the disappointment in his voice as he looked up to the cold, grey cement structure.

The area surrounding it held quaint businesses, but the building itself was pain and drab, the windows covered by white curtains, and the outside grimy with patches of old gum worn into the side-walk. Dean definitely got the better end of the school-stick this time around, but instead of gloating about his superior circumstance, he resigned to placing a soft hand on his brother's shoulder, hoping that gesture would be comfort enough. Even at thirteen Dean didn't give two shits about school, and it would have been nice if Sam, the one that actually appreciated the institution, had been the one to draw the long straw.

The brothers were so immersed in their scrutiny, they didn't even notice their father startle, turning towards a commotion down the street. Eventually though, the red and blue flashes of police lights were enough to snap Dean and Sam from their thoughts.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, excitement creeping into his voice. He stood on his tip-toes, trying to get a better view.

"Boys, go home," their father demanded, knowing that they had already memorized the way and wouldn't need his help to navigate back to the motel.

"But Dad-" Dean began to whine before getting cut off.

"I don't want to hear it. Home. Now."

"Yes sir," Dean mumbled, grabbing Sam's arm and spinning him around, starting to take off in the direction of their room.

John ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to straighten it and fingered a fake US Marshall badge that he always kept on him in case of emergencies like this. He slowly walked into the frenzy of cars and officers, posture straight as if he knew exactly what was going on.

Meanwhile Sam and Dean had just turned a corner and were out of John's sight. Sam had the intention of heading straight back to their room like they were ordered, but Dean whipped around suddenly and turned in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, spinning around a the last minute and jogging to catch up with Dean.

"We can't miss this, Sammy. What other time will we be allowed to be in a real hunt?"

"But we aren't allowed..." Sam whined.

However his complaint fell on deaf ears as Dean continued forward, flitting around houses and slowly nearing the police scene.

"If we approach from the left side Dad won't be able to see us, but I think we'll be able to hear what's going on"

Sam rolled his eyes, but followed his brother into a small side-street. Although Sam didn't necessarily want to disobey their father, Dean rarely wanted to include him in on these types of rebellious acts, and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to show Dean that he could be cool too.

As they neared the edge of a house at the corner of the scene, the two boys made sure to obscure themselves in the dense garden bushes. From their vantage point they could hear the police officer speaking with John.

"I didn't know that these simple murders warranted a visit from you federal marshals."

"If they were so simple, why haven't you caught the guy?"

The officer was older - a bit of gray in his hair and laugh lines around his eyes. He pursed his lips and glared at John, refusing to give an answer. John let the silence drag on until it was only just uncomfortable before replying with, "that's what I thought. Now, the details please?"

Sam and Dean just looked at each other, Dean mouthing, "dad is so cool."

* * *

**AUTHORS NOTE: **I wanted to give a quick apology for the delay in updates. I'm in the middle of mid-terms, and those usually get hectic. I will, however, update my profile if anything out of the ordinary is happening, so yall can always check there to see if I'm going to be a bit slower at writing. I have the next few chapters physically written out, I just need to type and edit them (which does take some time), so I should be back on schedule soon enough. :)  
As always, thank you for the reviews, and I'll be seeing yall soon!

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**The End  
****(of the chapter)**


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